Tea With Quatre
by mindmelda
Summary: A fire, a cup of tea, and conversation. Wufei and Quatre, friendship.


Tea with Quatre  
  
Author: Gina Lin Melton  
  
Genre: Drama, Angst  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: 3+4 implied, 5+M  
  
Warnings: A little sad, non-canon,  
  
Archived: Nowhere, yet  
  
The small fire glowed in the absolute darkness, broken only by it's light, and that of an electric lantern.  
  
Quatre pulled his polar-fleece lined parka closer to his body. A child of warmer climes, the cold felt alien, yet invigorating. But, then it was only fall in the Montana wilderness. He could feel the icy air seep through his wool trousers and thermal underwear. He flexed his fingers in their warm gloves. They were slightly achy with cold.  
  
A pale teal lambswool scarf was wound around his neck, a similarly colored cap on his head. Adjusting it to cover his ears, he remembered when Cathy had presented them to him, knitted with her own hands.  
  
The set was one of his favorite personal possessions, because of the many things he owned, very few of them had been made for him as gifts of love or friendship.  
  
Trowa had a matching set in a soft jade green. He told Quatre how Cathy had fretted over the colors, picking just the right jewel tones to accent their respective eye coloring.  
  
"Tea's ready," he said softly, reining in his wandering thoughts. The huge and towering Douglas firs that surrounded them were perfect camouflage for the two Gundams, Sandrock and Shenlong. There was something about the looming darkness of the forest around them that demanded hushed tones, like a cathedral, a mosque or a shrine, Quatre thought.  
  
Footsteps, muffled by the soft carpet of dead pine needles, approached the firelight.  
  
"Thank you," said Wufei, holding out a gloved hand for his cup.  
  
Pouring the hot beverage into a metal cup, Quatre handed it carefully to him.  
  
"You really hate the cold, don't you." It was not a question.  
  
"'Hate' is an inadequate word in this situation," retorted Wufei, sipping the scalding oolong and exhaling quickly to cool his mouth.  
  
Quatre chuckled , his breath frosting in the cold night fall air.  
  
"Neither of us were exactly the perfect choice for this mission, my friend," he said.  
  
"A polar bear would have been suitable," complained Wufei, shivering a little inside his many layers. "Or Yuy," he added, "He never seems to feel the cold, regardless of how he's dressed."  
  
"State of mind," replied Quatre absently, pouring himself a cup of the oolong. "Heero simply wills himself to be whatever the situation requires to complete the mission."  
  
Quatre paused. "There were Buddhist monks in ancient Japan that would meditate for hours in the freezing waterfalls from the snowmelt of Mount Fuji to learn to control their body temperature," he said, by way of making conversation.  
  
Wufei raised an eyebrow at Quatre. "I am NOT in a 'who is the most stoic Asian' contest with Yuy." He snorted and took a long drink from his now cooler cup.  
  
Quatre laughed. "Here, you can borrow my scarf, Mr. Not-Stoic Asian," he said to the other young man. "Keeping your head warm is very important and you have no hat. Let me put this around your head."  
  
Quatre unwound the soft blue scarf from around his neck and placed it around Wufei's neck, and began to wind it around until he had made a soft turban around his head, tucking in the end securely.  
  
"See, warmer, isn't it?" he asked.  
  
"A bit," admitted Wufei, slightly embarrassed that he had been attended to like a child.  
  
"Trowa has a green set just like this one," said Quatre, pouring himself more tea. He sighed loudly. "Cathy made them for us, our first anniversary. Of when we met, I mean."  
  
"You miss him," stated Wufei.  
  
"Yes," said Quatre without elaboration.  
  
They sipped tea in silence for a few minutes.  
  
"I'm glad for you," said Wufei finally.  
  
"I'm overly blessed in that way," said Quatre, blushing faintly in the darkness.  
  
Silence.  
  
Quatre looked over at his friend.  
  
Wufei was looking into the fire. His eyes had the unfocused look of someone lost in thought. Not happy thoughts, either, Quatre noted.  
  
"I'm sorry," said Quatre, responding to his friends demeanor.  
  
He felt a sudden sharp pain tighten his chest, and realized it was his friend's pain he was experiencing.  
  
"For what?" asked Wufei roughly, turning his head away.  
  
"I think I inadvertently caused you pain by something I said," replied Quatre.  
  
"It's nothing you caused or should concern yourself with," said Wufei, rising abruptly. "I have repairs to finish, excuse me."  
  
Wufei poured the dregs of tea from his cup onto the ground and placed it on the upturned log he'd been sitting on.  
  
Quatre watched his stiff back recede into the night.  
  
"I'm sorry," he repeated uselessly to the unhearing forest.  
  
Wufei flicked on a small flashlight from his pocket to make his way through the forest to Shelong.  
  
"Nataku," he whispered. "Do you miss me?" He leaned his head against the cold unyielding metal of the Gundam.  
  
The end of the scarf brushed the back of his neck as it loosened in his hands, and he pulled it around his neck and shoulders, inhaling the clean sandalwood and vanilla scent of Quatre, his good friend. The lonely feeling that clenched his heart in its iron fist relented somewhat and he took a deep breath.  
  
The night sky in its unfamiliar patterns winked at him.  
  
"She hears you," said Quatre, coming up behind him and taking the scarf in both hands, rewound it around his ears.  
  
"Thank you," said Wufei, quietly.  
  
"Loneliness, like being cold," said Quatre, "is a state of mind."  
  
Wufei looked into his friend's expressive aquamarine eyes, barely visible in the dark.  
  
"It's warmer over here by the fire," Quatre went on. "It's hard to get warm by yourself."  
  
"Yes it is," said Wufei, as they walked toward the firelight.  
  
The End 


End file.
